


Secrets and Lies

by Anthy_FalloutGirl (Anatheia)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, POV First Person, This is why PCs are good at everything, musings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatheia/pseuds/Anthy_FalloutGirl
Summary: Why is She so damned good at everything?  Because that was her job.  Be perfect.





	1. The Perfect Wife

I stood on the bridge, looking up at the stars. 

They were a little different than I remembered. I used to come out here and smoke; or at least, I'd sort of pretend to smoke. I'd light the damn thing, lift it to my mouth. Pull the smoke in, let it roll across my tongue, but I'd just hold it in my mouth before blowing it back out. 

Smoking blows your cardio; I needed my cardio for work.

Nate would have been surprised. To know that his beautiful little wife was a highly trained field operative. 

Undercover Agent. 

Spy. 

Nate wasn't my husband. He was hers. 

'Nora Pendleton'. Pretty, perfect Nora, who only smoked socially, and always threw the most perfect dinner parties. Nora, who's prestigious career (govermnment placement) as a lawyer led her and her war hero husband into some very select circles. Circles teeming with communist scum. 

Communist scum that I stole secrets from, while Mrs. Pendleton and Captain Pendleton had a lovely dinner on someone else's dime.

Then those secrets would suddenly be headlines, and all their assets were siezed, forfeit to the government for war crime restitutions to the US Government. Following the orders of a President nobody had seen for months. 

But it put food on the table.

 

  
For a moment, my hand itched for a cigarette. Instead, I slipped a hand into the pocket of my vault suit, and pulled out Nate's wedding band. I turned it over in my hands, looking at it in the moonlight, sitting on my palm. 

Like the fucking One Ring, from those old books Nate loved. 

It felt cold in my hand still.

I clenched it in my fist, and raised my arm to throw it, and then I stopped.

I had married a good man. A kind and gentle man. In the course of doing my wifely duties, I'd given him a son. 

A son he desperately wanted. 

Shaun had been...my apology to Nate. For the fact that I wasn't his wife. That 'Nora Pendleton' was not just a liar...she was a lie. She didn't exist. I made her up...to be his perfect wife. 

The Perfect Wife...nobody would suspect her of being a DIA Agent.

I shoved the ring back in my pocket. When I found him, it was the only thing of his father's I had to give to him. He deserved something. 

If he was alive. And if He wasn't...well. 

That didn't bear contemplation.

 

  
I walked back up the broken bridge, along the cracked concrete roadway I'd driven over a thousand times, up to their house. Our house. The place where I was Nora. Codsworth was busily repairing a fallen wall panel when I approached. Dogmeat was laying on the porch, but lifted his head when I approached, his ears perking up. Nate bought a dog, but the damned thing took off. 

"Ah, Miss Nora! Welcome home!" I winced.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Codsworth deserved the truth. 

"Come inside, pal. There's...something I should explain." The Mr. Handy followed me inside, and I picked up the lantern, carrying it to the couch. My sleeping bag was already stretched out along the worn cushions. I sat down, and set the lantern on the floor as he hovered dutifully over the threadbare rug. Dogmeat flopped out on the rug, rolling onto his back. I scratched his belly, obedient human that I am.

"Two hundred and thirteen years ago, I was given an assignment by the DIA. They needed an agent who could go unnoticed in the homes of Boston's wealthy and elites. I was their first choice, because I was young, pretty, and unmarried. I could be classy. I could be detached." 

The goddamn robot laughed.

"Oh, Ma'am, you've developed quite a sense of humor!" 

"I'm not joking, Codsworth. I was barely old enough to drink when I picked Nate out of a pile of potential cover husbands. I picked him because he had nice eyes, and a good smile. His file said he'd taken a serious head injury, saving his squad. Just home from the front. Needed a good woman to take care of him, but not so much that I couldn't also do my job."

Goddamn. I wished for the cigarette again. Instead, I gave the dog a good scratch behind the ears.

"He'd checked all the right boxes; Nice, didn't drink heavily, not known for a temper. Then I put myself in a place to meet him, and I did my job. I got him to fall in love with a girl named Nora Carver. Then he married her, and she was Nora Pendleton. But...it was never me, Codsworth. She was just...a pretty little lie. My name isn't even Nora." 

He hovered silently for a moment.

"Ma'am...what is it your are trying to say?" I stared at him for a moment, then smiled a little.

 

 

"Well, I guess it's not important anymore. My name is Abernathy. Abernathy Finn. I worked for the Defense Intelligence Agency, and my marriage to Captain Nathaniel Pendleton was part of my cover. I...I wasn't supposed to get pregnant...but Nate wanted to be a Dad."

The man had been as baby crazy as some of the airheads I had to hang around with because those were 'Nora's' friends, or the idiot wives of his fellow soldiers. Hardly a brain cell to rub together in those little cliques. 

But every goddamn time somebody showed up with a baby, there was Nate. Playing with the baby to keep it happy while it's mom ignored it. Holding them like little drooly footballs, cooing at them and then looking up at me, with his pretty eyes and his nice smile. 

So damned excited, like a big happy man puppy.

_Can we have a baby? Huh? Can we? Can we??_

"Everything else was a lie...so I gave him a son. I owed it to him, to give him that happiness. And I'm gonna find Shaun, Codsworth. I'm gonna find him, and tell him...how his father was a deeply kind man...and though I was never in love with Nate...I did come to care deeply for him...and in his memory, I'll find our son, or I'll die trying."

 

  
Codsworth bobbed a little, excited.

"Very good, ma'am! You just say the word, and I'll join you! For the Captain, and for Shaun!"

I looked up at him, and I was surprised.

"You...aren't angry with me? For lying?" I really thought he'd be mad.

"Angry?! Heavens no, ma'am! You were doing your duty! Even Captain Pendleton would have understood that. He was a soldier, too, Miss No--Miss Finn." 

I'll be damned if the 'bot didn't sound just a little bit proud of me when he said my name. It made me smile.

"Thanks, Codsworth...but...I'm glad to know that you're here, taking care of things. These people...Preston, the Longs...Sturges and Mama Murphy...they need our help...and I need theirs. Just do what you can to help them turn Sanctuary Hills back into a place where people get to be happy and safe, okay? That'll help me a lot." He saluted with his little pincer arm.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

He knew when the moment was over, and whooshed off to continue 'helping'. I leaned back on the couch, then sighed, and shed my vault suit, crawling into the sleeping bag in an old shirt I found in a dresser when we were going through the houses.

 

  
Going to Concord, helping Preston against the Raiders...it had felt good. Using my training to help people, instead of hurt them.

Well, the raiders got hurt. But fuck them, they were clearly assholes.

Slipping into that suit of power armor; ripping that minigun off the Vertibird, and grinding that Deathclaw into so much meat. It had felt good. Thrilling. I hadn't had that much fun since I had to femme fatale my way into the Boylston Club, singing some saucy new track from the radio. 

Nate had thought I was out with my 'best friend' Emily. My handler. My cover for the cover husband. Instead, I'd put on some ruby red lipstick and batted my full dark lashes at some fedora wearing criminal asshole, and snuck into a private club where the likes of Eddie Winter partied.

Men never could resist a natural ginger. My hair had been part of my signature look; Nora wore hers in a demure bun most of the time. But when that bun came out; watch out, boys. 

I sighed a little, closing my eyes. I could hear the sound of someone sniffling occasionally, and then Marcy's voice, harsh, but not loud. Talking to Jun, still grieving his own son. I should say something nice to him, next time I spoke to him. 

Nate would have. 

Instead, I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

 

  
Preston sent me off to some place called 'Tenpines Bluff'. It was an old farmstead; it used to be quite a nice house, in my day. Now it was a few crumbling stone walls and a shitty little shack, occupied by a man and a woman. I didn't bother getting their names.

They asked me to clear the raiders out of the Corvega Factory.

Not shy about asking strangers for help, that's for damned sure.

All I had for weapons was one of those piece of shit pipe rifles, a 10mm handgun, and a double barreled shotgun. As a bonus, I'd found a couple of frag grenades that would be handy in a pinch.

I cursed my stupid vault suit. Loud ass neon yellow and blue? I mean, I get the marketing angle, but shit. Not exactly a stealth suit. Dogmeat was smart enough to stay quiet and hidden; this dog knew how to survive.

The only melee weapon I had was a switchblade I picked up off a table at the Museum of Freedom. I stuck it through the leather belt I'd scavenged off the dead raiders outside of the museum, and drew my 10mm. I wondered if any of the old DIA emergency gear caches were still around, then realized I couldn't bloody remember where the closest one had been, and let the thought drift away.

Time to do the fun part.

 

  
Killing this many people quietly isn't easy. I managed to get in alright, but it went to shit once I got to the factory floor. The machines were quiet, but I could hear the whirring of a couple of turrets. There was a utility protectron in its charging dock, and the terminal was pretty close.

Hacking it was simple, once you knew the ins and outs of RobCo's security. I set the personality to 'law enforcement', then activated it. The men quietly talking in the office came out to see what was going on as the robot trundled across the floor. The Turrets activated, and started firing at the Protectron. 

I used the pipe rifle, since it was inaccurate as shit anyways, and fired enough rounds to blow the two turrets up.

The explosion of the one on top of the office knocked them down, and gave me the chance to shoot the raider coming down the stairs. Dogmeat darted off, and i heard swearing and screams.

Good boy, Dogmeat.

By the time they'd gotten to their feet, I was already slamming my fist against the big red button that ran the catwalk out. Then I was in the office, and it was a firefight. I ducked behind the metal desk, and then pulled one of the frag grenades. I pulled the pin, and rolled it across the floor, under the desk, even as I shot blindly past the smashed up terminals. 

Neither of the men noticed it.

I plugged my ears.

After the explosion sound, there was a silence. I leaped to my feet, and found one of the raiders mostly whole, rifling through his pockets, taking whatever I found. The large trunk was more fruitful, and I happily added the dark leather leg armor over my too-blue legs. There was an old Grognak on the desk, and I stopped, picking the comic up.

Dogmeat wandered up, blood on his muzzle, and sniffed around a spilled plate of some kind of meat, eagerly snatching up his prize.

Leafing through the comic with a smile, I nearly got my fool head shot off. The bullet hit the window frame, and nicked my bicep. I dropped the comic and ducked, moving to the edge of the door. 

Two raiders, I don't know where the fuck they came from.

I was a better shot than they were. Two more bodies to search. I am alarmingly good at post-apocalyptic survival.

 

 

Once I was satisfied the plant was empty, I debated sleeping there. It was only six in the morning, and I should sleep. I hesitated, then dug around in y backpack full of goodies, pulling out a syringe. It looked pretty slapdash and back alley, but it was labeled.

Psycho.

Cocaine was so old fashioned. I decided awake was better than asleep, and I plunged the Psycho injector into my arm. Dogmeat whined a little, and I gave him a reassuring smile.

My heart raced for a moment, and I took a shaky breath. I wasn't usually one for chems, but...this was a special occasion.

I called it 'not sleeping in a room full of corpses'.

I shoved the injector back into my bag, scavanged what I could, and finally, I grabbed the Grognak comic off the floor where I'd dropped it, and tucked it carefully down the back of my pack. Something to read when the high wore off, I supposed.

  
Without a backward glance, I left at least a dozen corpses to rot on the floor, and walked out.


	2. The Ordenstaat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a safe place to fall over for a while.

I caught a radio broadcast. Some woman, using military terminology. I found that oddly reassuring. Somewhere, there's an army.  
Thank you for small favors.  
I'd thank God, but clearly he's thrown his hands up and walked away. This is a godless land, and I'm going to thrive in it. Who would have known my tendency to remain unattached would be such an advantage?  
That said, Preston wasn't so bad. He was a lot like Nate; he had a good heart, and wanted to help. It seemed like that wasn't getting him too far lately, but it was good for me. Preston was someone who would happily answer all my questions.  
And I had them constantly.  
Bloatflies, Bloodbugs, fucking two-headed cows and hairless nightmare bears they called 'Yao Guai'. Don't even get me started on goddamn Deathclaws.  
Well, the lady at the police station only had 'Ghouls'. I could handle Ghouls. And yay, lady friends!

I came around the corner with my 10mm drawn, and put my shoulder against one of the massive barricades, opening fire on the ghouls. Jesus, they really looked like zombies, except the damned things were crazy fast. A guy in power armor, sans helm, was blasting away with a laser rifle, reducing the odd one to ash. He was a good shot, mostly. The woman on the stairs, not so much, but I could see a dead guy on the platform above the gateway, and another guy in an ugly orange jumper, clearly wounded.  
These people were lucky I decided not to sleep.  
Dogmeat was everywhere, jumping and grabbing their arms, pulling them to the ground where I could shoot them easier. Just when I thought the last one had come, and was lowering my weapon, the man aimed his weapon at me, and fired twice. Behind me, I got a whiff of ozone and burning flesh, and had to turn my face away from the drift of embers and ash that had been about to jump me from behind. Dogmeat gave a bark, and ran back to my side, shoving against my hip eagerly. I gave him a pat, rewarding his good work.  
"We appreciate the assistance, civilian, but what's your business here?"  
"I...heard your distress call. I just came to help." He frowned at me, and I tried not to smile. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. Well, that's gratitude for you.  
"Are you from a nearby settlement?" I hesitated, thinking of Preston and Sturges and the others. Finally, I thought, 'fuck it'. What's the worst he could do? Get a face full of turret fire? They weren't precisely defenseless. Close, though.  
"I'm...from Vault 111." That got his attention. 

 

"You're a Vault Dweller? Most people wouldn't admit to such a thing. I appreciate your honesty." His hard expression softened a little, and I decided that for all the dirt and scruff, he wasn't a bad looking guy. Quite the opposite.  
"If I appear suspicious, it's because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the commonwealth, we've been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side."  
What is with people here? Does no one have any manners?  
"I want to help...but I don't like the secrecy." I have enough secrets here for me, handsome power-armor-guy, girl in dorky hood, and grumpy wounded dude too.  
"I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel." He nodded to the woman, and her injured comrade.  
"Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. We're on recon duty, but I'm down a man and our supplies are running low." He made a frustrated sound, and his heavy brows knit a little.  
"I've been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal's too weak to reach them." Scribe Haylen rose from where she'd been tending to the injured Knight.  
"Paladin Danse, if I may?" He didn't seem to mind the interruption. Paladin Danse, and a Scribe and a Knight. Some kind of weird ass secular army? The young woman charged ahead.  
"Proceed, Haylen." 

She was pretty, Scribe Haylen, in that girl next door way. A smattering of freckles, like me, though her hair was hidden under an ugly hood and hat.  
"I've modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I'm afraid it just isn't enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal." Paladin Danse jumped back in, and I turned to look at him again. Yes, quite handsome. At least as handsome as Nate. His eyes weren't the same; Nate's eyes were blue. Shaun had my eyes, green and wide.  
"Our target is ArcJet Systems, and it contains the technology we need...the Deep Range Transmitter." He outlined the plan without even pausing to ask me if I was in.  
"We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter, and bring it back here." He took a breath at the end. Obviously, he needed the backup, since the other two didn't look up to such a mission. "So, what do you say? You willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?" 

"Why not? When do we leave?" I smiled, one of Nora's smiles. How bad is it when it's easier to pretend to be Nora than it is to be Abernathy Finn?  
"Outstanding!" The man almost broke into a grin, but his strict military training kept it at bay.  
"Alright, civilian...it's time to prove your worth. Head into the police station and resupply yourself, then let me know when you're ready to begin." I nodded, and as I walked past him, he frowned a little, but let me pass.  
I held the door open for Haylen and Knight Rhys. Dogmeat darted inside ahead of me, nose to the dusty floor.  
She smiled.  
He didn't.  
I smiled at her, and ignored him. Screw him. He doesn't know me. Hell, nobody does.  
We walked up the few steps, the Paladin clomping up behind us. I was afraid to wear my armor inside, for fear of falling through the floor. The fall wouldn't kill me, but being buried in a house would eventually.  
Danse approached me, nodding me into another room, away from Haylen and Rhys. Dogmeat decided to go make friends whit Knight Rhys. Traitor.  
"I never got your name, civilian." I stared at him for a moment. This was it. Who did I want to be? I'd given Preston the name of Abernathy, but when they went back to Sanctuary, I'd had to fill in Codsworth. Was I ready to let Nora go? Yes. Absolutely. Let Nora Pendleton die with her husband.  
"Abernathy Finn. Abby. I'm...not precisely a civilian. I was in the military, for a few years." No lies. Just a wide circle around the truth. Like the rings around Saturn.  
"And...are you a frequent user of Psycho, Miss Finn?" I flushed brightly.  
"Was it...that obvious?" He smiled a little.

 

"I've...seen it before. You don't look like it's a problem, but I wanted to be sure. I will be depending on you, after all." Valid point.  
"It's...I only left Vault 111 a couple of days ago. I was...honestly, hoping to find somewhere safe to sleep for a couple of hours. I took the Psycho so being tired wouldn't get my head shot off." He nodded.  
"Chems aren't forbidden in the Brotherhood of Steel, but we don't encourage their recreational use." I smiled a little.  
"I'm not into recreational usage. I have other hobbies." Cooking. Cleaning. Assassination. Theft. The usual.  
"Good. In that case...get some sleep. I'd rather you were rested, and Arc Jet isn't going anywhere." He put a big metal hand on my shoulder, and smiled nicely at me.  
"Thank you, Paladin...I appreciate it." He nodded, and waved me after him. He led me to a small room that had a mattress on the floor.  
"It's not much, but it's got a door, so you'll at least be able to ignore Rhys." I laughed a little. The man was still bitching in the other room. Haylen had the patience of a saint. I'd have given him a polish necktie by now. I wonder if there's still a 'Poland'? The thought distracted me for a moment, then I snapped back. The Psycho was wearing off, and the stress was catching up to me.  
"Thank you. I'll get some sleep. I don't think I'll be able to stop myself once I lay down, honestly." 

 

He chuckled, and clomped out, closing the door behind him. I dropped my pack on the floor immediately, and dug out a box of Sugar Bombs. I munched a handful down to keep my stomach from annoying me while I tried to rest, and took a cursory snoop around the room.  
It didn't take long before I decided this was Danse's room.  
His comment had tipped me off, but the dresser had several neatly folded uniforms, and only one pair of jeans and a red and black faded checked shirt with several mismatched buttons sewn on with different colored threads.  
Apocalypse Fashion.  
I noticed a significant lack of undergarments, and wondered how uncomfortable those uniforms were for a man going commando. I was glad for my crisp and clean white bra and panties, put on my body not an hour before the bombs turned the world to crap.  
I figured them for decent folk, but just to be on the safe side, I slipped the switchblade into my hand, and then put that hand under the pillow as I laid out on the neat greenish military style bedroll on the lumpy pre-war mattress.  
I was hardly able to keep my eyes open, and so I gave up, and went to sleep.

I woke as I sensed someone close to me, and reacted. Negatively.  
By the time I'd blinked awake, I had yanked my would-be assailant down to the floor, and pinned them beneath me, my switchblade, still collapsed and pressed against their throat. Paladin Danse stared up at me, surprised.  
"Um. Sorry." I pulled my weapon away, suddenly aware that out of that armor, Danse was both sneaky quiet, and also a delightful chunk of beefcake. I hadn't seen shoulders that broad in quite some time.  
"You...wanna tell me what military you were in that lives in a vault? Is Vault 111 a secret ninja training camp?" He was smiling a little, impressed. I blushed, and stood up, offering him my hand. He took it, and was impressed again when I actually helped him up.  
"I worked for the DIA." I admitted, and his brows shot up.  
"As in...the Defense Intelligence Agency? Of the United States?" When I nodded, he frowned a little.  
"You're either the most attractive Ghoul I've ever seen, or you're crazy." I blushed.  
"Not crazy, and you just called me attractive, Paladin." That made him blush. I smirked a little, because he had a bashful, farmboy look to him.  
"Vault 111 was a cryogenic facility. My--My family and I. We didn't know...we thought it was just a Vault. That we were going into a decontamination pod. Then it got cold." I stopped. I didn't want to talk about Nate. Danse watched me for a moment, and I begged him silently not to ask. He gave a slight nod.  
"How long have you been awake?"  
"Three days."

 

Danse stared at me for another few moments, measuring me silently. Finally, he nodded again.  
"I suppose your skills aren't exactly rusty then. We'll leave as soon as you're prepared. I'll meet you out front when you're ready." I nodded, and as he walked past me, he put his hand on my shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze. A soldier's sympathy. I bowed my head in acknowledgement of the gesture, and Danse left.  
I grimaced and took a half assed bath with a scrap of cloth and half a glass of probably irradiated water. I dry swallowed a couple of Rad-X to be on the safe side, then reassembled my pack as I munched on some more sugar bombs. I was finishing a second handful when I walked out, and Haylen lifted a brow at me.  
"Really? That stuff is probably irradiated." I shrugged.  
"Until somebody shows me what food looks like, I'm just trying not to starve to death." Rhys looked up at me with a scowl.  
"What? What does that mean?"  
"I've only been awake for three days...didn't the Paladin mention it?" Haylen shook her head, but went to a small pot, and served up a creamy colored glop in a bowl, offering it to me.  
"It's just cornmeal grits, but it's better than those sugar bombs." I shrugged, and took the bowl, taking a tentative bite. It could use a little salt, honestly, but I wasn't gonna be rude.  
"First hot food I've had in days. Thank you, Scribe Haylen." She looked happy, so I went with it, and shoved the lumpy shit down without really tasting it. When it was empty, Haylen took the bowl from my hands, and nodded towards the door.  
"Hey...what did you mean, you've only been 'awake three days'?" Rhys spoke as I headed past him to meet the Paladin. I slowed, measuring him a little. He was already surly and shitty when I arrived. I had a nice way to shut that down though and if he wasn't a collossal piece of crap human, it would shut him up for good.  
"My family and I were in Cryostasis. A while ago...I'm not even sure when...some people thawed us out...they shot my husband in the head and stole our son. Then...they froze me again. I just woke up three days ago...now, I'm just...trying to find my son...make sense of what happened."  
His face paled, and he stared at me for a long moment.  
"I'm sorry. I hope you find him." I nodded once, and left without a backward glance.

 

The Paladin calmly filled me in on what I'd missed, from the Brotherhood of Steel's point of view. Then he started talking about 'Synths'. Once he'd explained what he was talking about, it seemed pretty far fetched.  
But somebody tracked us down in an underground vault, and specifically stole Shaun.  
They came for Shaun.  
Somebody had to have a reason for that...and the Institute sounded like the kind of monster I was looking for. When we ran into the first batch, I took a moment to kneel over one, looking for anything I recognized.  
"A little more advanced than your standard Protectron...even more advanced than an Assaultron." I looked up at the Paladin, and he gave a grim nod.  
"Technology like this is what the Brotherhood of Steel is trying to stop. Some technology is good. This isn't. Fake humans, indistinguishable from real ones, that are programmed for infiltration--" He shook his head, face hidden behind his helmet.  
"I a real human, trained for infiltration. What makes the fake ones scarier than me?" He stared at me, and then laughed.  
"You're hardly frightening, Miss Finn." I smiled him as I rose.  
"I imagine that wasn't what you were thinking this morning when I pinned you to the floor with my knife at your throat, Paladin Danse." I couldn't see his face, but I was willing to put 'caps' down that he was blushing.  
"No, I...suppose it wasn't. You have very good reflexes...you must have been a formidable agent." I smiled.  
"I did okay."

 

We got the Deep Range Transmitter. Danse remained behind, and sent me back to the Police Station with Dogmeat. But first, he asked me to join the Brotherhood.  
I hardly thought about it before I said yes.  
He grinned at me, his helm under his arm. He even gave me his laser rifle as a 'thank you' for my help. Finally, we left, but when we got back, Rhys was less than pleased to see me still. He didn't bar me from the building, though. Haylen was very welcoming. When I realized I'd have at least twelve hours with these two before Danse returned, I decided to be friendly to my future comrades in arms.  
"So...which of you is the better cook? Because I need to know what's edible, before this iraddiated junk makes me sick, but I'm not into poisoning myself by accident with some toxic plant life or something." Haylen laughed, and even Rhys smirked.  
"I'm the cook. You got any experience?" I laughed, and batted my lashes at him.  
"Why, Knight Rhys, you are looking at an absolute professional when it comes to throwing a dinner party. I've wined and dined in the finest restaurants...why, once I even poisoned a man at a very exclusive nightclub!" They stared at me in surprise, and I laughed.  
"I worked for the DIA. Being the perfect wife was sort of essential to my cover." Rhys processed that, then shook his head.

 

"So I have to ask...did your husband know you were a secret agent?" My smile faded, and I looked away.  
"No. Nate...was my Cover's husband. Her name was...Nora." Haylen's jaw dropped.  
"But...you said...your son..?" I smiled a little. There wasn't any point to hiding what I was. I had made a decision, to be Abernathy Finn...but Nora Pendleton was still a part of me. Nate was a part of my life, and so was Shaun. I couldn't ignore them, the way I had ignored who I was before. These were good people. They deserved the truth. So did I.  
"Nate...wanted to be a dad." Haylen smiled, and Rhys exhaled slowly. I looked at Dogmeat as he shoved his head into my lap, begging for scratches. I gave them.  
"I lied to him...our whole relationship...my half was a lie. But giving him a child...that was something I could do for him. So...we had a baby...and god, he was a great dad. He loved Shaun so much...and...I could love him too. I had him for Nate...but he's still my son...and...somebody took him from us. So I'm going to find him." I looked at Rhys as he rose.  
"Well, before that...you gotta survive, and if you don't know what to eat, that's gonna be a lot harder. Come on. I'll show you what's what." I smiled a little, and sent Dogmeat to lay down as I followed him to the little workstation where he prepared their meals. Wasteland Cooking 101.

When Danse returned and informed them I'd joined the Brotherhood, Haylen was excited, and Rhys was a little dismayed.  
"What about her kid?" I flushed a little. Danse waved a massive metal hand dismissively.  
"She can do recon and look for her son. Until we make contact with the Citadel, we don't have any pressing orders. I've taken the time to do an assessment of her capabilities, and I believe that Miss Finn will be a credit to the Brotherhood of Steel." That was firm and brooked no argument. Rhys nodded sharply.  
"Yes, Sir." Danse turned from him, and didn't smile at me. He was being official, but he looked pleased.  
"I'm granting you the rank of Initiate...this is only a training rank, but until the Prydwen arrives, that's all I'm able to give you. That said...see Rhys and Haylen for orders...but don't work yourself too hard. Searching for your son is important...don't put these tasks above him. If you get a lead...follow it." I nodded.  
"Thank you, Paladin. I appreciate your understanding." He finally smiled.  
"If you need anything, Initiate Finn...please don't hesitate to ask." I returned the smile, and he blushed a little. He called me 'attractive'. Apparently he had made more than a passing observation.  
I thanked him again, and he dismissed us, sending me to Haylen while he clomped down the stairs to the Power Armor Station downstairs. Haylen and Rhys gave me orders; Kill everything that moved in College Square around the corner, and retrieve a haptic drive from the National Guard Training Yard.  
I decided to murder everything next door on my way to Diamond City. I knew where the Training Yard was; I'd been there before, in the guise of Nate's pretty wife. I left it for another day. Besides, I really needed to get to Diamond City. Mama Murphy insisted that her 'sight' said someone would help me find Shaun, and I could only find him there.

 

I packed up my gear, and gave Rhys a bunch of caps in exchange for some boxes of 10mm ammo. He tossed in a box of shotgun shells and some molerat jerky, just to make up for being an asshole earlier. Then I headed downstairs. I could hear someone hammering metal, and opened the door into the garage.  
I had to stop and stare.  
I wasn't wrong. He had the shoulder to waist ratio of a slice of goddamn pizza. Broad shoulders, muscular arms. He had that same orange and beige suit that Rhys sported, but he'd stripped it down to his waist, and tied the arms so they didn't trip him.  
Bare chested as he was, I could see scars, some newer, most old, marring his lightly tanned complexion. I have a thing for guys with scars, I think. Or it's just been so goddamn long since I actually found a man attractive enough to desire him I only think I like them.  
Danse's hammer paused in mid-swing, and he looked up, surprised. I was staring. He blushed.  
"Um. I'm...leaving. Heading for Diamond City." I managed to stammer the words out, blushing like a bloody schoolgirl. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, and it made me want to do the same.  
Goddamn but he was handsome.  
I reined my hormones in as Dogmeat trundled down the stairs behind me, and through the open door, shoving his head into Danse's hand. Danse looked down, and smiled, crouching to give the dog a good scratch.  
"Well, I suppose I don't have to tell the dog to take care of you. He doesn't need to be told his job...and you hardly need looking after, Initiate Finn."  
Ouch, my rank.  
Just a gentle reminder that I'm in his army now, and that means no canoodling with my superior officer. The second I'm a paladin, I'm gonna find a way to get him out of the other half of that hideous jumpsuit. Dogmeat licked his face, and gave a happy bark, jumping up to hit the big red button, opening the rolling door. I laughed surprised, and Danse chuckled as he straightened.  
"Better watch him, or he'll sneak out at night." I smiled.  
"He's far too smart, but I'm not complaining. He's a good friend to have on the road." Danse smiled back. Ugh, he even has a nice smile.  
"Be careful...and try to come back when you can. If anything comes up, I'll broadcast on AF95 again." I nodded, and did the silly little arm across the chest salute Haylen had taught me.  
"Ad Victoriam, Paladin."  
"Ad Victoriam...and good luck, Initiate."

**Author's Note:**

> So I wanted to explore the idea that 'Nora' is so damned capable and strong and skilled for a reason; she was trained to be that way.  
> I wanted to put a story to the way I envisioned my SoSu, and how she processes the apocalypse and the search for her son, without disregarding the fact that that the PC is basically hardcore as fuck and doesn't hesitate to gun people down when they need to. This will be done in chapters, rather than as a series, but I'm still actively writing it, so updates will be incoming.


End file.
